


Heart, Don't Fail Me Now

by Haberdasher



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Relationships, Coming Out, Gender Identity, Internalized Misogyny, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Martin Blackwood, Other, POV Martin Blackwood, Post-Episode: e171 The Gardener (The Magnus Archives), Pronouns, Relationship(s), Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Martin Blackwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: After Jon calls Martin his boyfriend, Martin has a confession to make about how that term isn't entirely accurate.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 32
Kudos: 277





	Heart, Don't Fail Me Now

The mortal garden was well behind them now, though what waited for them up ahead was still unclear, Martin and Jon walking together in the eerie space where one domain bled into another.

The calm before the storm, perhaps. Or after it, when the smell of petrichor seeps out from rain-laden strips of grass. Or both, even, the eye of the hurricane, with thick storm walls on both sides but a brief moment of respite in between them.

Things were relatively calm here, was the point, whatever flowery metaphor Martin chose to use to describe it. The two of them hadn’t spoken much since Jon explained his reasoning behind killing Jude Perry but not Arthur Nolan, explained that he didn’t seem to be helping people no matter what he did, explained that getting rid of other avatars had been out of revenge more than anything else. The silence between them now wasn’t an unpleasant one, though, not exactly.

But something had been bothering Martin since before the two of them left the mortal garden, and he wasn’t sure how long he could go without saying anything about it, so he cleared his throat and prepared to break the peace.

“Jon?”

“Martin?” Jon’s eyes locked on Martin’s in an instant, and Martin could read them like an open book: first wary and worried, searching for threats that had somehow gone unseen, then warming up at the sight of Martin still whole, still unharmed, and only somewhat anxious--was the color getting brighter, or was that just a trick of the lighting?

Martin thought he had never really understood the old expression that the eyes were the window to the soul until after getting to know Jon.

“I- I want to talk to you about something. Something you said to Jared back there.”

Jon stopped walking, and Martin followed his cue, the two standing face to face. “What is it?”

Martin paused, hesitated, biting his lip for a long minute, wanting to savor the moment before he explained his thoughts. They were in the middle of an apocalyptic wasteland, and yet Martin felt--no, Martin _knew_ \--that what he was about to say might upend his life far more than any statement Jon read.

“You- you know how Jared asked if I was your boyfriend, and you said I am?”

Martin was pretty sure that even if all he could see of Jon was his eyes, he still would be able to identify every one of Jon’s emotions as his expression flickered from one to the next. Wide-eyed confusion, first. Anxiety, in which he couldn’t quite meet Martin’s gaze, his eyes looking slightly off to the side instead. Concern. Horror. Finally, a sorrow that looked dangerously close to grief.

Jon couldn’t quite keep his voice steady as he responded, though Martin could tell he was making an effort to do so. “Are, are you not-”

Martin’s stomach lurched as he realized where he’d gone wrong, how Jon had been led to entirely the wrong conclusion here. “It’s not- not what you think. We’re still together, or, or dating, if you can call it that...” Martin made a vague hand gesture pointing out their surroundings; anything that most people would consider a “date” was well out of their reach now. “At least I, I want us to be. And I hope once I’m done explaining, that you still want us to be too, that this doesn’t change anything between us...”

Jon’s expression softened, the grief replaced with idle curiosity mixed with confusion--a not-uncommon look for Jon, especially these days. “What do you mean, then?”

“The issue--or, or issue makes it sound bigger than I mean, but--it’s not about us being together, it’s the word. I don’t think I’m your _boy_ friend.”

Jon considered this for a moment, tilting his head to one side slightly as he thought. “It does sound a bit juvenile, I suppose. Though ‘manfriend’ doesn’t have the right ring to it, I don’t think...”

Martin laughed weakly. “No, no it doesn’t.”

And Martin could see a world where he left it there, maybe ribbed Jon some more about using such a childish term to describe their relationship, didn’t touch on the bigger issue behind it all, didn’t rock the boat. That would be safer. It wouldn’t be the full truth, but it would be safer. The calm would remain undisturbed.

But then again, Martin had already rejected a life full of safety and calm and letting his true self fade away into oblivion in the process, and he had no intentions of going back on that particular decision.

So Martin made himself speak up again.

“Even if it did, though, manfriend wouldn’t really be any better. Because I’m not- I’m not a man. Or a boy, for that matter. I’m not male.”

“Hmm.” Jon’s tone was neutral; Martin suspected that he was working hard to keep it that way, to conceal his true feelings, and he couldn’t quite read whatever was behind Jon’s eyes. “Are you female, then?”

Martin remembered a brief litany of insults hurled at him throughout his childhood-- _pussy, sissy, girl_ \--and gulped.

“No, no, I- I don’t think I’m either one. I don’t think I’m anything. Does that makes sense? To just... be nothing?”

“You’re not _nothing_.” The chiding tone of Jon’s voice made Martin flinch, and only after, only when he saw the concern in Jon’s eyes, did he see that Jon might have interpreted things differently once again, might have thought Martin was making a comment regarding his self-esteem rather than his gender or lack thereof.

“I didn’t mean it like that, just, just gender-wise.”

“Ah. Well, then, it’s certainly possible for you to be nonbinary, perhaps agender then, though I don’t mean to force labels on you-”

Martin snorted. “If I can’t get a label from post-apocalyptic Google, where _can_ I get one?”

“I knew those terms beforehand, actually.”

Jon went quiet rather suddenly, averting his gaze, and Martin wondered, then, whether Jon had meant to speak of his pre-existing knowledge so casually.

Had Jon known because he’d come across the terms during his own gender identity exploration, or because he had a friend who’d gone through what Martin had now, or because he’d somehow suspected the truth of Martin’s identity before Martin himself realized it, or just because he was bored one day and did in-depth research into gender identities as nonchalantly as he would do research into spelunking or alchemy or any number of other things that were just idle bits of trivia to him?

Was this the sort of burning curiosity that Jon felt just before he asked someone to tell him their story, whether they wanted to or not?

Well. Martin wasn’t going to force it out of him--he couldn’t do so as literally as Jon himself could, and he certainly didn’t want to pressure Jon into sharing anything he didn’t want to, either. Instead he just stood there and waited for the silence to become less awkward, waited for Jon to speak up again.

Jon did, eventually. “You didn’t mention this earlier.”

It wasn’t a question, certainly, but Martin wasn’t quite sure whether it was meant more as an accusation or as a simple statement of the facts. Either way, Martin could feel his cheeks heat up as he prepared to explain himself.

“I, I’m just starting to figure it all out, didn’t want to bog you down rambling about something I don’t even fully get myself yet. It’s just... all my life people have assumed I’m a man, and I just kind of took it for granted that that meant I was, didn’t think about it much until after we got to Scotland, and usually I’m fine with it, usually it doesn’t even bother me, but there’s a few terms where when they get used it gets under my skin and... and I guess boyfriend’s on that list now.”

It took Jon a moment to respond, and Martin felt like he was getting warmer and warmer by the second as he waited, like he was about ready to spontaneously combust.

“I see.”

Martin forced a grin onto his face, hoped Jon couldn’t tell how false it was. “Of course you _see_.”

Jon snorted in amusement, and Martin took that as a victory.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, though, Martin, whether you’ve figured it out already or not.”

“I know, I know, just... seems a bit foolish, when I don’t even mind half the assumptions, and, you know...” Martin gestured vaguely at the hellscape around them. “We’ve got a lot going on at the moment already.” 

“Still. Your feelings matter, Martin.” Jon paused. “Should I still call you Martin?”

This threw Martin off a bit, and he took a deep breath as he processed it. “That’s my name, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be, you know. If it’s too masculine, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Martin hadn’t actually considered that, and he took a moment to ponder the possibility of changing his name to something else, anything else, before shaking his head. “Think I’ll stick with it. I like the way it sounds, and I’m used to it by now, anyway.”

“Honestly, I like how it sounds too, but that’s not what’s important here.” Jon leaned over and gave Martin a quick peck on the cheek, and Martin’s mind was racing.

“You’re... you’re so _calm_ about this.” Martin threw his hands in the air. “How can you just... accept all of this without even blinking an eye?”

Jon shrugged. “I care about you whatever your gender is, Martin. And I know what it’s like, having to come out, explain your gender, navigate all that. Guess how long it took me to settle on the name Jonathan.”

Martin squinted, looked at Jon for a long moment. “I don’t know, how long?”

“No, no, you have to _guess_.”

Martin hadn’t seen Jon with that particular kind of shit-eating grin on his face very often before.

“...year and a half?” Martin didn’t know how long was the norm for that sort of thing, but he padded his estimate a bit, knowing well enough that Jon was the type to overthink those sort of decisions.

Jon let out a low whistle. “Thirteen months. You were close.”

“Guess I know you pretty well, heh.”

“Guess so.” Jon tapped his fingers against his leg as he considered his next words... “Do you know... what pronouns you want to use? He still, or she, or they, or any number of neopronouns I could name for you...”

Martin didn’t know what a neopronoun was, but he did know that asking would probably get Jon rambling on about the topic for a good half hour or so--or what _would_ be half an hour, if time worked like it should, anyway--and he wasn’t quite ready for that just yet.

“’He’ is... ‘he’ is fine, I guess? I mean, I don’t mind it, it’s done the job for thirty years now and all, I suppose. ‘She’ doesn’t sound right to me. And ‘they’... all I can think of is my old schoolteacher telling me singular they isn’t grammatically correct, and I need to stop using it in my essays.” Martin grimaced a little at that particular memory.

“Don’t worry about the grammar of it. I think the grammar’s fine, but that’s not what matters. Does it sound right to you?”

“...dunno.”

“Want me to give an example?”

Martin silently nodded in response.

Jon looked Martin right in the eyes. “Martin Blackwood is wonderful, and I love them very much, and I think they’re the only reason I can keep going anymore, that I’d give up on it all if it weren’t for them and their determination.”

Martin’s face turned hot again, but for a different reason this time around. “Stop it!”

“It’s true. All of it.” Jon was grinning again. “So what do you think?”

Martin thought about it for a moment, tried to divorce what he thought of the pronoun as applied to him from what he thought of the pronoun in general, and more specifically from Mrs. Jameson’s old reproaches when it came to his essays. It wasn’t easy to do, but once he did... “I think I like it? Not entirely sure, though.”

“That’s fine. You’ve got time to figure it out.”

“All the time in the world. Such as it is.”

Martin shot Jon a wry smile, and Jon reciprocated.

“Quite.”

“Now, about the ‘boyfriend’ thing... what other terms d’you know for that, without the, the gendered bit of it?”

Jon took a second to respond. “Joyfriend?”

Martin’s eyes widened. “ _Joyfriend_?”

“It’s a thing! It’s a word people use!” Jon threw his arms in the air. “And it’s like boyfriend, but without, well, the boy part. And you do bring me joy, after all.”

“Still sounds weird to me, and if you thought _boyfriend_ was juvenile, well...”

“So that’s a no, got it. What about datemate?”

Martin hummed to himself for a moment before making a wavering hand gesture. “Maybe? I like that better than joyfriend, anyway. The internal rhyme’s rather nice.”

“Alright, we can keep that in mind for later. Significant other?”

Martin wrinkled his nose and made a face. “Too proper.”

“Fair enough. Besides, I think if anyone’s going to be the significant other in this relationship, it’s me. I seem to be significant now, after all, and I’m certainly _other_ as well.”

Martin snorted. “And to think there was a time I believed you didn’t make jokes.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you know better now.” Jon paused for a moment, hesitation clear in his expression. “What about partner?”

Jon’s eyes kept darting between Martin’s own gaze and the ground, and Martin wondered if his thoughts were consumed with the same thing his were when the term “partner” came up. It reminded Martin of Basira and Daisy immediately, and Martin glanced down at the scar Daisy had left on Jon’s neck. Their partnership was why Jon hadn’t ended up dead that day, sure, but it was also, in a sense, what had allowed things to get that far in the first place.

But then again, the two of them weren’t entirely innocent these days, either...

And that partnership between Basira and Daisy, that sense of having each other’s backs no matter what, of trusting each other come hell or high water, that was something Martin could certainly see the value in.

“Yeah, I, I think I like that one.”

Jon nodded solemnly. “Well, next time a fear avatar asks, I’ll make sure to let them know you’re my _partner_ then.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Because it’s such a regular occurrence.”

“Better than Jude Perry thinking you’re my _valet_ , anyway.”

“Right, the valet for the car you definitely have.” Martin gestured to the space around them, which was entirely lacking in cars.

They’d had a car, once, back at the safehouse. Martin knew now that taking it wouldn’t have actually sped up this process any, had heard Jon’s speeches about how “the journey will be the journey” loud and clear, but still, part of him wondered now what would have happened if they’d taken the car with them when they’d started.

Would the car have insulated them from the worst of it, protected them from the horrors that surrounded them?

Would the car have broken down early on, as any normal car would when confronted with the obstacles that surrounded them now, having to be abandoned amidst the chaos?

Or would the car have become an eldritch being in its own right, like the safehouse was, feeding on the fear of those within it?

Martin shuddered at the thought and decided he was probably better off not having found out the hard way.

“Martin Blackwood, my partner.” Jon reached for Martin’s hand, and as Martin reciprocated the gesture, intertwining his fingers with Jon’s as he had so many times over now, Jon gave Martin’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I rather like the sound of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr at [haberdashing](https://haberdashing.tumblr.com/)!


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